Blue Blood
by Feelin Glayish
Summary: "Sorry, your highness. I'd bow," Bardock licked his dry and cracked lower lip, which slowly curled up at the side. "But this is about as low as it gets." –- King Vegeta is put through a test by Frieza and learns the price of Blue Blood. KV/B, 7 Parts
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Dragonball/Z/GT and all its likeness does not belong to me.  
Notes: Started for the DBZ Kink Meme on Livejournal. Prompt was for King Vegeta/Bardock – Bondage. This is for you Anatra!

* * *

**BLUE BLOOD**

**Chapter 1**

"Filthy."

Frieza's small nose was scrunched in distaste, his dark coloured lip twitching up and down.

The day was humid and hot on Planet Vegeta. Dirt piles in the construction site baked in the sun, the red soil sticking to everything unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity.

There was a mixture of both animal and machine being used as means for building the new docking station. The grotesque and dimwitted worker animals herding stone were indigenous to the red planet, and made awful loud honking noises as they worked. The colossal drills that pulverized the dirt to make way for pipes and foundation were manned by aliens not of the planet, dressed in regulation armor.

A few more aliens paced back and forth the fence lining the lot with oversized weapons in hand, patrolling the parameter. It wasn't obvious what ranking someone was when wearing that uniform, because when it came down to it – everyone, elite or not, cowered before Lord Frieza.

A gust of wind picked up some more of the stifling dust and King Vegeta raised an arm to his head so it would not land in his eyes. He let the curtain of the tent drop, blocking out the elements as well as the vision of the construction zone.

"I apologize, my Lord." The Saiyan King murmured, making sure to speak in the tone acceptable of his place.

The tent was a feat all in itself, stocked with tables of precious juicy fruits and sweet breads. Fermented drinks of all colours were bottled and corked, littering the tables in beautiful designs. High powered units to cool the air were placed in the four corners, their power cords attached to a patch of temporary solar panels placed just outside.

Frieza was lounging on a fine looking chair, reminiscent of the spikes and bulbous designs that decorated his personal spaceship. King Vegeta returned to his place and took a seat that was positioned close to the Lord's side.

When the Saiyan race had become allied with Frieza, back when he was an adolescent, the planet itself had relinquished itself over to change. Every planet that belonged to the Ice Lord's empire – every single one – was subject to development. It was impossible for Frieza to improve their lives without improving their facilities, and that was why yet another docking port was being carved out of the planet's surface.

Soon this rural part of the southern continent would be a bursting metropolitan just like the identical port in the north. It was the port built directly next to the royal home that Frieza and his change had come through; built on the foundations the empire leader had laid back when the alliance was struck. Warriors, mercenaries, tradesmen and doctors… All the kinds of people they needed would come and improve the planet more once the new compound was finished.

King Vegeta could only hope that it raised the reputation of their race and planet in Frieza's eyes as well. Lately, that red eyed stare had seemed more angry and restless, as if he were irreversibly displeased with their service.

The tall Saiyan wiped the dust from his face, staining his pristine white glove a rusty brown colour on the palm.

A large pink and spiky blob named Dodoria seated at one of the tables was mashing fruits with one hand, as if amusing himself with being wasteful. King Vegeta watched in disgust as one fat purple tongue lolled out of his mouth, licking his juice covered hand.

"Your manners are impeccable as always, Dodoria." Frieza was chuckling, but looking straight at the King instead. Perhaps he was more satisfied with seeing his discomfort than any display of etiquette from his high ranking officer.

"I can't wait for the construction to be done with." An egotistical voice made itself known, on Frieza's other side.

Zarbon stood with a plate of berries and a glass of a deep red fermented juice that had a very strong smell. He offered it to Frieza, who gave it a once over then readily accepted.

"Yes." Frieza said, staring down into the depths of his glass as he swirled it. "Though the progress is a little slower than expected, I am pleased with the location."

Frieza's eyes darted to stare piercingly at the Saiyan, and King Vegeta nodded quickly. "Thank you, Lord Frieza. We are quite excited for the new port to be built. Why, even my son—" Frieza raised an eyebrow ridge at this, a small wicked smile overcoming his mouth.

"Ah… Well, we're all very excited…" King Vegeta backtracked, wondering how to change the topic. It was too late however, as Frieza's interest in his son had peaked.

"_Little_..Vegeta." Frieza slurred the words together in delight. A sound that made the King's stomach contents curdle. "Where has that rascal gone now?"

Frieza tapped his chin with a dark blue berry, rolling it to his lips before slowly slipping it inside.

"I know not," The Saiyan King said, his mouth dry. "Most likely he's run off with Nappa to demolish another planet."

"How old is he again, Vegeta? At my last visit, why… He couldn't have been more than three..."

"He is four and a half, my Lord." King Vegeta nodded solemnly and Frieza began to cackle.

"Oh my my my… And already joining in on the fun." Frieza always dropped his disgust and reprove of the Saiyan race when faced with the little prince. King Vegeta didn't feel comfortable with whatever plans for _improvement_ the Lord had for his son, but at least the oppressive antagonism that filled the air had dissipated somewhat, letting him breathe.

Zarbon was peeking out of the front of the tent, observing the milling workers and patrol men. The loud sounds of drilling and honking and men shouting were hard to ignore. The blue man made a disgusted noise. "The wind has picked up even more. We're going to be caked in dirt if we don't arrange for a covered transport. Shall I call the Northern port and request it?"

"Very well, Zarbon." Frieza said with an air of boredom. "Take Dodoria with you. His eating habits offend me."

Dodoria almost choked. He immediately jumped up and flew out into the red coloured elements. Frieza made a sardonic noise and the long haired warrior seemed worried as he sidled away, his blue cape flapping out wildly as he left the tent.

The silence that followed was suffocating, despite the keening and grating noises that filtered into the enclosed space. There were various nervous looking henchmen in the tent, of course, but they dare not say anything. There were rumours with strong basis that told of Frieza liking to take out his frustration on the weaklings that surrounded him, which almost always meant his own employed men.

King Vegeta made to stand too, but a muscular pink tail slammed down next to his chair, cracking the hard baked rock underfoot.

Frieza was smiling dazedly, looking off at some unknown plan only he saw. "Vegeta, I have something to discuss with you."

The dusty air caught in the King's throat and he strained to breath in around it. His mouth was dry and the words cracked out: "Anything, my Lord."

Frieza looked at him then. "Anything? Yes, indeed…" Slowly he rose from his makeshift thrown, tail flexing behind like a dangerous sleepy snake ready to strike.

"I am in need of some assistance. You see, I am trying to _improve_ the regeneration tanks that allow my men to heal from battle…"

King Vegeta was nodding along. He was very aware of the tanks. Section 5 of the Northern docking port was equipped with ten of the cumbersome pieces of alien technology. They did come in handy after particularly hard battles.

"My technicians have presented some new findings for the fluid formula and we would like to have a…" Frieza paused and made a terribly large show of smiling. "A volunteer."

Vegeta's blood ran cold. "My… son?"

Frieza laughed outright, bending back slightly from the force of his amusement. The Lord rubbed one squinted eye with his black nailed finger. "Why… It's so kind of you to offer, but it seems the King has a one track mind. No."

Now all pretense of humour was gone, leaving Frieza gazing into the thin red air with his arms crossed neatly behind his back. "I need a full grown Saiyan, and although you yourself come highly recommended…" Frieza smirked eyeing the weary Saiyan.

"Any such low class will be fine, since I do not wish to harm capable warriors. I'm more interested in the rapid healing properties of your race. It will make the trial process go much faster."

"Of course, Lord Frieza. I can make the necessary—"

"_Un_necessary, Vegeta." The leader of the universe's largest empire interrupted him and took a long sip of his drink. The King took this as a sign that he should stop talking and allow the powerful lord to instruct him so that he could perform to the best of his abilities.

It wouldn't be prudent to slack now that Frieza had become interested in them again, the Saiyans, as more than just an insignificant species inhabiting another dirty planet planned for assimilation. Any specific interest Frieza had was worth fostering, because the longer the Lord was not bored, the longer their alliance had meaning.

The longer he, the King, had purpose.

"I've already gone through that _tedious_ trouble of procuring us a subject." Freeze raised his eyebrow ridge. "I merely need you to oversee the… _tests._"

"I will!" The King readily agreed, voice loud in determination. Unconsciously, his gloved hand came up and stroked at his beard, emulating how stroked his ego felt. Not only was Frieza interested, he was entrusting the King to do it personally!

The voice of his Lord was icy and slow.

"Excellent."

* * *

TBC…


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Dragonball/Z/GT and all its likeness does not belong to me.

* * *

**BLUE BLOOD**

**Chapter 2**

King Vegeta had always found it insulting that Frieza preferred to stay in his spaceship's accommodations instead of the royal palace. It was as if he deemed the height of Saiyan living and class far beneath him.

It couldn't be helped, however. The King marched behind Frieza with a strong stride in their small procession through the palace corridor.

However, as they entered the main courtroom a commotion was creating a great disturbance.

Two of Frieza's uglier men in uniform where struggling with a prisoner, held captive by his wrists shackled wide apart on a strong metal pole. His feet were bound in the same nature. One of the patrol officers had his gun shoved into the man's face while the other had the higher pole in one hand and the man's… tail, in the other.

So, that was the 'volunteer' then…

King Vegeta's face grew even graver as they approached. The obviously weak level Saiyan was forced to bend backwards at a rather flexible angle because of the pole in the officer's grip. He was grunting and trying to twist his body away from the gun squarely planted in his jaw, but a bright red bandana was stretched tight across his mouth.

The group of elite warriors stopped in front of the man struggling in his restraints. Whereas Zarbon and Dodoria's faces held vaguely annoyed looks, Frieza seemed like he'd never been happier.

Immediately, the gun toting officer stood at attention, his weapon at ease. He pulled a registration card – all inhabitants of worlds under the Frieza Empire had to be documented – and bowed deep, offering it to their lord.

The powerful leader's tail whipped back and forth idly on the floor as he read it. "Bardock," His tongue prodded the name like it tasted disgusting in his mouth. "I see you've accumulated quite a record that commends you for a position such as this one."

The horned alien grinned almost maniacally as he read off the paper: "Public riots, the killing of several men on my force –_theft_, my my. You see, I know you've been against the alliance." Frieza's voice was now like steel. "And I know you've been trying to rally other dimwitted individuals, like yourself, against me."

"Rugrhhgrfff!" Bardock thrashed, but his tail got squeezed, tight. He fell to his knees, as if the pain had been so bad he'd seen stars.

That was one thing the King had never experienced as a descendent of the royal lineage. Their royal appendages had become immune to the crippling pain the commoners fell prey to. He stroked the tail at his waist surreptitiously, his gloved fingers tunneling into the course fur.

"Your job, dear King," Frieza told him happily, "Is to administer the appropriate punishment to our generous volunteer, once a night for five nights. As such, we have five different formulas to test."

The King found himself clenching his fists painfully tight and consciously had to relax them as the short leader walked towards the third class Saiyan warrior kneeling like a wild animal on the cold tile floor. He felt outside his body, like he was a witness and actually not part of the situation at all.

Yes, he had maimed and killed other Saiyans. There wasn't a Saiyan alive who hadn't torn the flesh of another of their kind. But what Frieza was asking for, it wasn't a battle. He was asking for cold clinical dissimilation. He was asking the King of Saiyans to take apart one of his own men and put him back together again, in the name of science.

It was so against their way of life it left a bad taste in his mouth and a fluttery feeling in his stomach that wasn't hunger or excitement.

Frieza traced a finger down Bardock's sweaty face, igniting renewed struggling from the Saiyan. The lord looked terribly pleased with himself. He brought the finger to his lips and licked it. Frieza made an appreciative sound, tasting the salty fear and desperation.

"In the night you will carry out your duties to the empire, and during the day," His almost white fingers dug deeply into Bardock's splayed hair and twisted, making the captive Saiyan growl. "_He_ will carry out his by being healed. And. Thinking about his crimes against the thrown."

Bardock looked at the King then, wild hair still trapped in Frieza's grasp. His regulation armor was cracked and singed in places; one dark olive skinned pectoral muscle laced in sweat and blood heaving up and down. His pants were in shreds around his calves, one legwarmer hanging torn. A bloody knee was pressed angrily in the floor – it couldn't have been comfortable.

King Vegeta's black eyes bore down into the other man's, like the thick and heavy drills at the southern construction zone. They stared at one another, and the captive Saiyan's eyes flashed.

"Arfghyou reghgrrfff do this?" The low class warrior spit out from around the bandana gagging him.

Zarbon immediately kicked the man in his stomach, causing a loud groan.

Frieza clucked his tongue and tutted, pulling the Saiyan's head back by his hair. The man bared his teeth, biting down on the piece of red cloth in obvious anger. "We'll keep him tied up of course. As I said, I don't wish to harm our most capable warriors." The lord slowly turned his head, staring over the large shoulder guard of his armor.

"Do you find the arrangement you've agreed to acceptable?" He asked in a low bored tone.

King Vegeta snapped to attention, swallowing down his initial trepidation like a bitter jagged pill. This was not a matter of morals. What reason was there to think about morals anyway? This would benefit all their men in the long run, and troublesome upstart warriors with too many brains and not enough brawn had always infuriated the King to no end.

"Yes." He announced, and it echoed through the courtroom loud and clear. "Take him!"

With a woosh of his cape, Vegeta gestured for the patrolmen to lead the 'volunteer' away, off to the testing facilities or wherever Frieza's whim and fancy obviously decided.

"You may begin."

Frieza inclined his head ever so slightly, a dark gleam in his red eyes. Vegeta watched him turn and jump up into his hover chair, off towards the port station doors with his two colourful officers in tow.

* * *

Bardock stumbled as he was hauled down the never ending steps of the castle. One of the only large standing structures that hadn't been irreversibly changed by Frieza's improvement, the royal home became more archaic the more one descended underground.

The walls were cool and dripped with red water. The ground water system on planet Vegeta had a tendency to mix with the dark red clay that made up the subcutaneous layer of the land. The mind numbing drip drop noise was the only thing other than his own harsh breathing that filled his ears.

The officers, unfortunately stronger than him, especially with those guns, didn't say much as they tossed him down the remainder of the stairs.

Bardock's bloody knee banged against the stone floor, sending pain shooting up and down his leg and stars to his vision. The dust coated him, already sticky with sweat and blood. The Frieza force members were content to let him lie there in the filth but he got to his knees easily, making their ire grow.

"You Saiyans are a disgusting lot." The one who had squeezed his tail gurgled out. He had gills on the side of his head and an ugly lattice of patchy green and purple skin. He kicked Bardock in the side, making the Saiyan bounce into one slick wet wall.

"If it were up to me, I'd put all of you in here to get your ass beaten, and for longer too! What a perfect excuse to torture you bastards, for all years to come!"

"Shut up." His gun happy partner said. He looked relatively like a Saiyan except instead of a tail he had very pointy ears. "Lord Frieza has his motives and it would be wise not to question them. Even becoming overzealous about his ideals can inflame his wrath."

"Pfft."

The cloth around Bardock's mouth had loosened. He gnawed at it and then spat it out so that it hung wetly around his throat.

"Hey!" He ground out, his voice hoarse and dark, like it was coated with a thick layer of grit. "Don't you see that Frieza is just _using you?_ He—"

The butt of the gun rammed into his stomach. The armor had already been cracked under Zarbon's kind foot, so the force sent a shard of plating to dig painfully into him. Bardock coughed, feeling bile rise in his throat.

"Save that talk for someone who cares."

The patrolmen dragged him bodily across the landing, and Bardock lifted his head just enough to realize where he was being put.

"NO!" He shouted. The iron bars of the dungeon creaked open. "RRGGHAAHHHH!"

His shouts echoed off the red dripping walls.

* * *

"Why do you pit the King against one of his people?" Zarbon sniffed as loudly as he dared. "I could have handled this easily."

They lounged in the imperial spaceship after bathing and cleansing themselves from the filth of the dried red land.

Frieza's face was stony as he stared into the bottom of his glass. The dark red liquid bubbled slow and grotesquely, as if it were alive and boiling. "Please do not question my methods, Zar..bon." The way his tongue slipped over the name made the pale blue officer swallow in nervousness.

"However, I know you can't help but be curious about things you can't possibly understand on your own." Frieza smirked and tipped back his glass to take a long sip of the smooth liquid.

Zarbon withered in fury and shame by his side. "Yes, my Lord."

"There is something about those Saiyans. They bore me, of course. Yet…" The light spiked off one of Frieza's horns in a sharp glint. "I find it intriguing of such a race; a barrel full of monkeys all willing to clamber against each other. No care or ambition except to feel their enemy's blood drying under their fingernails…"

The window of his ship showed the expanse of planet Vegeta, rotating ever so slowly, its tumultuous orange clouds swirling over the surface.

A look of true disgust crossed Frieza's face, his nose upturning right above his drink. He threw it and the glass smashed against the tile floor in a loud crash. Some of the guards cowered, trying to shake in their boots silently lest they be noticed.

"This is merely a test." The lord explained.

Dodoria scratched his fat cheek in a bit of a confused state. "The test about the regeneration fluid?"

Zarbon regained his composure with one long suffering sigh, finally able to reinstate his intelligence. "Yes. But I think Lord Frieza is referring to something only he, the gracious and powerful leader, would know…"

"Their King is weak, of course." Frieza announced in superiority. "And our venerable test subject, is a pest that needs to be crushed…"

The dark liquid he had been drinking fizzled and popped in the puddle on the floor. He looked at his flawless black fingernails in disinterest.

"So I will break them both, and that is one thing that our regeneration tanks will never be able to heal."

* * *

TBC…


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Dragonball/Z/GT and all its likeness does not belong to me.

* * *

**BLUE BLOOD**

**Chapter 3**

From the moment the King had woken up, he could think of nothing but the task Lord Frieza had given him.

However, it wasn't as though he was restless with _anticipation._

King Vegeta flipped uninterestedly through the report that had been handed to him over an hour ago. He'd been notified early that morning Frieza's personal laboratory technicians had poured into the science building, setting up the new regeneration tank and testing fluid storage facility. They would be ready for the 'volunteer' by that night.

The forever waning moon crawled across the sky throughout the hours until it hung outside the royal chamber window, a sliver of light sliced out of the crimson sky.

To anticipate anything instigated by the overlord without reservation was not a wise decision. When it came down to it, Frieza was a self indulgent creature. He only camouflaged his own wealth by calling it altruism.

That was not to say that Frieza wasn't truly generous. He was the strongest being in the known universe and yet he still kept them close. He allowed them to keep their tails and hierarchy; he let the King stay by his side.

But being by Frieza's side was a lot like being underneath his thumb.

Although even thinking about the ramifications of that fact left a weak wobbly feeling in his knees, the King tried his best to look at things at face value.

Frieza had come to their planet with the intent to destroy it.

The commoners weren't aware of the empire's initial plan for the Saiyan race, but that was neither here nor there. Once Frieza had found the usefulness in them, things had changed. An alliance was made, their partnership sealed.

This usefulness had _not_ included experimentation and testing, however.

King Vegeta sighed and crumpled the report. It was late enough. The night sky was like a clotted red blanket that covered the land outside his window. The blinking lights of the city served as man-made stars, guiding his eyes towards the world his planet was becoming.

He pushed back the royal office chair, and with a flutter of his cape, was gone.

* * *

With a Saiyan guard on either side of him, King Vegeta descended the staircase towards the dungeons at a quick pace.

His blue boots stopped in the damp dirt right in front of an old metal gate. None of the 'accommodations' were more than a dirty square of stone, dirt, and wet walls. They hadn't seen use in years, maybe even since the King himself was just a boy.

There was only one occupant here.

When a race was built of men and women more willing to fight to the death, there wasn't much use for prison. With Frieza's alliance came a purpose for even the weakest and the ever-expanding Saiyan presence in space instead of on planet had helped foster an increase in population compared to the time of his own father.

Each cell was dark and empty as he walked farther into the dank corridor, until they stopped directly in front of the only room with a lantern placed on the wall.

Vegeta peered through the bars and realized Frieza was true to his word.

There the wretched traitor was, curled in on his side in the shadowy corner. His long hair was matted to his forehead. The tatty bandana was tied around his eyes, a bright red strip in the darkness. King Vegeta leaned closer and the gleam of a brand new collar was clamped around the captive's neck stood out in the dim light. A silver chain, almost white, ran from the back of the ringlet and attached itself to the wall.

Surely Frieza didn't think a simple chain would hold a Saiyan warrior, third class or not?

Without hesitation, the King pushed open the gate to the ancient holding cell. It swung in with a low squeal on its bad hinges. The pathetic accommodations left no qualms in his mind. The only new additions to the cell were the unlucky bastard who'd opposed Frieza and that chain. The dark skin of the captive's neck was rubbed raw and bleeding underneath the stainless cuff. It seemed like the Saiyan had come just short of breaking his own neck to escape the delicate looking trap. It had to be some sort of new invention or discovery… a material that could restrain that wasn't a method made of ki.

King Vegeta's eyebrows lowered into a fierce scowl. Perhaps Frieza was testing more than what he'd intended for them to know. At any rate, it didn't matter.

Behind him he heard his guards check their scouter devices. The series of clicks and beeps that sounded off as they read the _volunteer's_ power level had been a new and novel charm back when the empire had introduced them but now it was just an annoyance to someone as powerful as the King of all Saiyans.

Everyone knew that once a low class, always a low class. A being's power level couldn't change that much over time, so once a number was read it was pointless to keep that contraption around.

Still…

King Vegeta raised his hand to touch the red lense scouter positioned on his own ear.

It was a symbol of power, just like everything else under Lord Frieza's reign.

"Impressive. Less powerful than a Saibaman." One of his men chuckled.

The King's lip curled up in distaste and moved farther inside to stand above the broken warrior's body.

"3rd class, on your feet." Vegeta clipped stiffly.

Bardock did not budge.

On closer inspection, he already looked like he'd been punished in addition to his previous injuries. Who knew what kind of 'persuasion' Frieza's men had used on the third class to just get him into the restraints the night before? And now it was his job to put the Saiyan through even more punishment.

The guards stayed outside the cell, an annoying presence buzzing invading King Vegeta's senses as he prodded Bardock with his boot tip.

The chained man's breath was coming in shallow gasps and the black armor that once shone proudly was now cracked and crumbling from his torso.

How could the King perform the… _task_ Lord Frieza asked of him on someone who looked like they'd already been through the proper treatment?

King Vegeta scoffed.

"This isn't worth my time."

"Too right, your highness! He already looks like he's been beaten to a pulp." The eager guard agreed quickly. "Serves him right though, testing Lord Frieza like that, sheesh…"

The royal Saiyan sneered at the unmoving warrior. His gloved hand came up and he unfurled fingers around a ball of crackling energy. King Vegeta merely grunted as he shot the ball of ki point blank at the body, watching it spasm and then thump back down into the deep scorch mark on the floor.

He turned on his heel, cape whipping out behind him and scattering the smoking dust in its wake.

"Get one of Lord Frieza's men down here to unlock him then make sure he gets to the science building. Let them deal with him." King Vegeta commanded, banging past the gate and already wiping his gloved hands off.

"I won't teach someone a lesson when they can't even listen. I will return tomorrow night," He looked over his shoulder in pause. "Alone."

"Yes, your highness, sir!" The men saluted and the only sound was the King's footsteps bouncing off the walls as he walked away.

* * *

An angry fuchsia blast screamed through the air and vapourized a cowering orange-skinned warrior in regulation armor. The feeling of the heat on King Vegeta's cheek stung like the electric burn of a slicing ki burst that had come too close. He swallowed through his constricted throat, watching the floor smoke where the patrolman had just stood.

The sun was setting on a new day, red rays of light spilling into the courtroom of the palace. King Vegeta watched the icy empire leader seated in the Saiyan thrown. He grit his teeth. This confrontation wasn't what he'd planned to have for dinner.

A muscular tail smashed the floor, regaining the cowering room's attention.

"Do I need to soil myself with the work that I entrusted to you? Do I need to put another weakling in chains and provide a demonstration?" Frieza asked in a low dangerous voice.

"No, it is not. Forgive me my Lord, I realize my error—"

Frieza's expression became pinched. His usually full lips a thin line like a wound ripped across his face, so scabbed over it was black.

The previous day Frieza had been pleased. Now he was in an unfortunate mood. King Vegeta swallowed again at the voice filled with ill-concealed disappointment.

The horned lord cocked his head, red eyes glaring. "What you did I did not ask of you."

"I did—"

"You _did_ what you wanted." Frieza interrupted.

To put the poor low class Saiyan out of his misery.

Vegeta clenched his jaw, unable to reply, thinking now that his own laziness to deal with a half-dead Saiyan had thrown him into treacherous waters.

"Tell me… Would you bring me your son, Vegeta? I see you need a proper lesson on how to educate a traitor to the alliance… A mere toddler might prove to better understand what I asked of you. I would sorely hate to disappoint as a…teacher."

The silence in the throne room was almost as powerful as Frieza. To either side of the lord, Zarbon and Dodoria wore self indulgent smiles. The King tried to school his features so as not to belay his underlying fear and anger.

"It was a mistake." Vegeta intoned in a more controlled voice. "I apologize, my Lord."

The large pink tail swayed lazily up and then back and forth behind its owner as if pleased. Frieza rested his chin on one delicate hand, reclining in the royal chair.

"Oh Vegeta…" He chuckled. "You take everything so _seriously._ It's so difficult to stay angry with someone so—" An awful grin overcame those lips. "So _prideful._"

"I take pride in our alliance, Lord Frieza."

Their eyes met, red and black, and for an instant King Vegeta felt like he didn't believe in the very words he'd spoken.

If Frieza was still displeased he didn't show it, making a grand gesture of crossing his legs and stretching out to recline.

"Letting our pesky traitor off with a weak power blast is not up to par on the 'teaching' I know you're capable of. Rest assured I will receive reports after every regeneration tank test. There's no reason to not make tests _fun_, Vegeta." The horned alien let his lip curl up in renewed amusement. His hand caught Zarbon's long green braid in one hand, twisting the hair casually around his fingers.

King Vegeta followed the movement with his eyes, watching as the powerful alien let the thick braid caress his cheek. On the end of it, Zarbon continued to look smug, but there was nothing to be proud about being on the end of Frieza's leash.

"I may seem younger than I am, but I do know some things." The red-eyed alien gestured for the room's occupants to stand at ease. "Believe me when I say, a man with pride is so terribly uncreative."

King Vegeta let his hands hang by his side in loose fists. His hairy upper lip twitched.

"Do everything you like, Vegeta. Anything. But never do nothing at all."

* * *

TBC…


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Dragonball/Z/GT and all its likeness does not belong to me.

* * *

**BLUE BLOOD**

**Chapter 4**

He was sorely tempted to just send a blast of energy at the test subject and be done with it, but the King was very aware that this was exactly what Frieza did not want.

_A man with pride is so terribly uncreative._

The words were burned deeply into his mind. King Vegeta paced down the dungeon hallway, towards the only lantern lit in the end of the row.

He wasn't 'uncreative!' Never before had the King been so annoyed with something their lord had said. Not even the sly insults or blunt slurs Frieza and his men used for Saiyans had itched his skin as much as this.

Blue boots clicking in an unrelenting tempo, he didn't stop in front of the traitor's cell, only walked farther until he stopped at the dead end of the hall. His fist came up and the King slammed it against the dirty stone with a loud roar.

Cracks splintered out from underneath his knuckles, showers of dust pouring down after being dislodged from their ancient caked state.

The royal blue and red cape swished back and forth as King Vegeta ignored the damage and began pacing anew. He wasn't uncreative and he wasn't stupid either. He had an inkling of what type of _fun_ Frieza was insinuating with the low class weakling. His mind flashed back to the suggestive way the horned alien had tugged on his elite's long hair.

Typical.

Frieza had always been interested in exchanges like that, and the King wanted no part in it. Now it seemed like he was being pushed into a tight corner. The thumb was pressing down harder, driving the point in deep.

This was a test.

But for the King. How far was he willing to go to put the alliance first? What better way than to place him face to face with a direct challenger of the very thing King Vegeta tried to protect? He was going to have to soil himself. Disrespect himself, even if he came away from this clean, in order to please Frieza.

It must be done. His eyebrow twitched as he stared at the lone source of light. A tiny winged creature fluttered about it, casting strange flickering shadows across the area like dark phantoms.

He refused to lose his pride.

"What are you waiting for, an invitation?" An unfamiliar voice struck him from out the darkness.

King Vegeta paused immediately, the sudden halt of footsteps leaving the silence to creep back in. The royal Saiyan turned to scrutinize the dusty interior of the cell through the bars.

The third class warrior sat in the corner, facial features obscured by the shadow. Bardock's numerous scars stood out in great relief, almost white in appearance. They shone silvery in the low light flickering from the lantern, like the piercing shine of the collar wrapped around his neck. Identical cuffs were present on his wrists and ankles, all long chains and bolted in different angles.

King Vegeta's lips formed a thin bristled line before he spoke.

"At attention, soldier."

Bardock immediately let out a bark of laughter.

"My apologies, but did _you_ get blindfolded too?" The lower class warrior rumbled in a low gravelly timber. The bright red strip of tattered fabric over his eyes only accentuated the deep scars etched into his dark skin.

"You will address me properly!" The King boomed, deeply irritated. He flung the gate open and then snapped the chain tied to an ankle, pulling it tight, causing Bardock to stumble forward to bow on his knees through the filthy dirt-ridden stone floor.

Out of the dank corner, the overhead light unexpectedly cast the low class Saiyan into harsh shadows that cut across every sharp angle of muscle. Bardock made a strangled hacking sort of sound before returning to his haggard dust-filled breaths.

"Sorry, your _highness_. I'd bow," Bardock licked his dry and cracked lower lip which slowly curled up at the side. "But this is about as low as it gets."

Despite all the spidery scars that webbed across the man's body, he was perfectly healed. Every inch of flesh was whole and healthy, every muscle pronounced and hard.

Despite himself, King Vegeta was impressed. It had been less than a day's time and yet the tank had fully restored the Saiyan of his injuries. No, he had no room to be lax here. If the rate of restoration had been reformulated so well then Bardock had to be near dead the next time he got dunked.

"The world as we know it is gonna go up in flames." Bardock's voice came from the floor and was coloured with something dark and mirthful, like a piece of coal being set alight. "If I were you, I'd make sure my son was far, far away from here."

"Are you threatening the Prince?" King Vegeta asked dangerously.

Bardock laughed, a sharp cold short sound. "There's only been one person threatening anyone here."

The moustached man raised one dark eyebrow and straightened up. "You are a traitor to Lord Frieza. Of course you would say such a ridiculous—"

"It's the TRUTH." Bardock shouted with sudden ferocity. He lunged and almost got close, but his chains did their job admirably, holding back his clenching appendages. The third class breathed deeply, the ball of his throat bouncing up and down painfully as he tried to swallow down his emotion behind the collar.

King Vegeta lifted his blue boot and put it on the man's cheek. The weaker Saiyan resisted but couldn't fight being flattened to the floor under Vegeta's foot.

He nearly chuckled. The lord had been right, this could be more interesting. If he made this into a battle – even if it was just a battle of wills – before he had to administer the appropriate damage, then the situation would be more motivating and justified.

"So what are you... some sort of activist?" He asked, trying to get the story behind the extreme foolishness of betraying Frieza.

Bardock snorted, but only succeeded in breathing in a large amount of dust. "You could say that." He coughed, "I had a dream one night. About two weeks ago while sleeping on a shithole planet that bastard had sent us to… just a random little dream, but somehow I knew it was the future…"

The chained Saiyan smirked quietly into the floor. "In it, Frieza destroyed the whole of planet Vegeta in one single tiny ball of ki…"

King Vegeta raised one thick eyebrow at that. Surely Lord Frieza wasn't _that_ powerful.

"I came back here with the intention of staging a revolt. I won't let the Saiyan race be destroyed!"

The King snorted, couldn't help it really. He ground his foot harder into Bardock's skull. "Of course."

Bardock's voice became sardonic. "As you can see, I was captured before it worked."

Vegeta scanned the Saiyan's body again, a stirring in his blood beginning at the sight of the man lying prone underneath his boot. The third class' arms were spread out, his back mostly bare, with a long scar running down the left side of it. He supposed the remnants of crumbled armor had to go. There was no point in keeping it around.

Gloved fingertips skimmed Bardock's dark skinned back. The chained man's breath hitched, Vegeta could see the dirt on the floor by his mouth clearing away with each pant. He pried away the pieces of broken armor like the shells of an egg, exposing raw supple skin, slightly sticky from tank residue.

The captive stayed mercifully silent, but King Vegeta could feel the reverberating power coming from him. He supposed if he turned on the scouter then the number would have climbed up some from the previous day. Ever present Saiyan prowess. He couldn't stop the feeling of pride rushing through his blood.

Soon Bardock lay there in just his ripped tight pants, now ribboned across his thighs, and the bandana that covered his eyes.

"Every time you do this to me, you will make me stronger." Bardock said breathlessly. The dusty light filtering down made his upturned face shine, almost looking golden.

"I know." The King said stiffly. "You should be thankful to be given this opportunity."

Bardock stared, mouth half smirking. Vegeta could see why Frieza hated this one. He smiled even when under someone's heel. "Strength won't matter at the end. Even a _King_ can't be fool enough to not know that."

"A King is a strong leader which makes his people stronger!" King Vegeta's lip curled up in cold arrogance.

"So you strap down your own men and torture them just to heal them and try again the next day because of a madman's orders. Yeah," Bardock let out a gritty puff of sarcastic amusement. "You've convinced me, _my_ _King._"

Without warning a lash came down hard and furious into the back of his ribs, putting an end to the insolent rant.

"Mhgrgg…" The low class Saiyan groaned. Unable to hunch over on himself to protect his middle he could only vibrate and shake at the sharp pain. King Vegeta stared, silent as a statue. Then he knelt and one finger hooked under the red band of fabric. The royal Saiyan pulled it down, their eyes meeting for the first time.

"You're not one of mine." King Vegeta whispered.

Suddenly, Bardock reared up and used the chains to wrap his arms around the royal neck, pulling him so they are locked together nose to nose. King Vegeta grunted, a clever move by a traitorous weakling, but the flame haired warrior had been faster and his hands gripped the unnatural pearly chains so they could not crush his neck.

Bardock growled like he'd seen the full moon, and the King narrowed his eyes down his pointed nose at the straining Saiyan. There were dirt and blood patches that dusted his skin. Beads of sweat rolled down Bardock's neck and collected at his clavicle.

Those onyx eyes curtained by dark spikes of hair were flashing with fire so close the King could almost feel the burn.

Bardock's breath came in fast pants, the breaths of air hot against the King's face. Vegeta's blood was racing, he felt like stroking his beard in smugness.

The chained man paused in the erratic breathing and King Vegeta's smirk had only halfway curled up his face before Bardock snarled and choked himself on the chain to catch the King's lip between his teeth.

The fully armored Saiyan yelled something incomprehensible as his sensitive flesh was chewed. He growled low in his throat and mashed his mouth back against the other man's, stunned only for a second at the feel of their lips and teeth locked together. Then he head-butted the third class and Bardock's head snapped backwards.

They both saw stars, both still straining to keep their holds on the chains latticed around Vegeta's neck taunt.

The King panted, staring at Bardock's chin before the scarred man lifted his head back up, a large smirk firmly planted there as if he'd stolen the King's own lips for himself.

Bardock muttered to the dark space between their mouths.

"Then make me yours."

* * *

TBC…


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Dragonball/Z/GT and all its likeness does not belong to me.

* * *

**BLUE BLOOD**

**Chapter 5**

King Vegeta stared hard and cold into the bondaged man's eyes.

Their noses were a scant distant apart. He inhaled deeply, picking up the scent of blood, sweat, dust, and arousal.

The King sneered. "Frieza was right to give you to me." He spoke in a low angered tone, the deep timber of his voice echoing off the shallow walls like thick crumbly bricks falling down. "I'll teach you some respect."

"By all means," Bardock's grin was feral, black eyes shining behind even blacker hair. He let his arms relax, the chains that they were both caught up in chinked together as they loosened.

"Do your best, your highness. Do your best."

King Vegeta immediately reared back and the crown of his head smashed into Bardock's.

The bound Saiyan went sprawling amongst the dust and armor debris on the floor, a strangled gasp rattling around in his throat.

The royal warrior smoothed down his cape, sending a disgusted look down at the other man as he untangled himself and got up. There was a strange quality about that chain. The unnatural shine of it had been curious at first, but feeling it against his skin, King Vegeta knew there must be more of Frieza's scientific exploration at work.

Bardock started laughing. "I-I can't believe it. They never told me I had to work for _this_ too."

"You presume too much for someone in _your_ position." King Vegeta sucked his lower lip in between his teeth for a brief moment, feeling the small sting of broken flesh.

"Oh come on!" Bardock suddenly shouted, eyes wild. "You don't think I know what's supposed to happen? What Frieza wants from this—this farce? I wasn't _lying_ when I said I know the future! Don't ask me how, but I just.. I know—"

"Silence!" King Vegeta boomed. Immediately he struck out and his blue boot's tip caught the side of Bardock's hip. "Shut your mouth, weakling!"

Bardock looked like he was positively vibrating with anger and indignation. "If you saw the things I saw… knew the things I knew…"

"I'd act accordingly." The King sniffed. "No one informed me that third classes came with no manners. I'll have to rectify that."

"Look," The lower class Saiyan rolled onto his back and lay there, breathing in deep pulls of dusty air. "I'd appreciate it if you just got it over and done with. Trust me."

King Vegeta looked over the man, surveying his shredded regulation pants and blood red tattered embellishments. What was this third class saying… To even think that Lord Frieza would consider he'd… No, more like, why _wouldn't_ Frieza take morbid pleasure out of such a sordid affair amongst the King and his subordinates? He'd seen the way the lord had strung along his own followers. The fact that Frieza army regulation uniforms were all very _showy_ didn't help matters.

But did he really suspect… _expect_ the King to revel in something so... so vulgar and demeaning? He wasn't just any warrior on the planet, each who had a fair share of dalliances as was the custom of such a lifestyle. He was the King!

And another matter, what made Lord Frieza think he'd choose the situation of a chained up traitor to something a little more refined?

It was obvious. Frieza had added another twist to the stab of betrayal King Vegeta suddenly felt so sharp in his back. How undignified was it that he had to beat this man to a pulp while leashed, but now it'd been planted into Bardock's mind that he was expected to take… _other_ treatments as well.

"You're as raving a lunatic as they say you are if you think I'll sully my blue blood with the likes of you." Vegeta said low in his throat. He volleyed a barrage of small ki blasts at Bardock, making the small cell smoky and stink of burned flesh.

Bardock cried out and every one of his muscles locked up in tension.

"Fine then." The man with feral hair said, voice barely contained. "Do your worst! I made it my destiny to oppose him. And I'll do my best to expose the truth!"

King Vegeta tried to drown out the sounds of those idiotic words by raining punches and kicks down on the other man.

Bardock hissed and groaned with each strike, bruises blossoming over his body in quick succession. The skin that had been split previously was too tough to spill blood again so easily forcing the Royal Saiyan to use more and more force until—

"H-He's _using you_, King!" Bardock yelled, body taunt and limbs contorted because of their restraints.

"Silence." The King scoffed.

"All those new weapons and technology and even that armor… Everything he gives us is for a price! What do you call these?"

The silver shackles rattled in their links as Bardock shook them. "You're too _proud_**—**Vegeta—"

The echo of skin slapping skin resounded through the dungeon.

Bardock hissed in deep shuddering breaths. The cheek of his face was raw, the scar on his cheek bright red.

King Vegeta stared down his straight nose at him, fury buried deep within those cold black eyes.

"Save your breath." The King said in one short gravelly whisper and Bardock's eyes widened. Power was ripping at Vegeta behind his navel, clawing to be released directly into the filthy traitorous third class' face.

The power collected in his fist, red hot and dangerously close to exploding between the both of them. He let it loose and relished as it rushed to engulf Bardock, the lower class' eyes going from pitch black to vibrant red and then closed shut from the force of the blow.

The King stared down at the other man's bloody face and his fist cracked uncomfortably within its gloved confinement. He wanted to spit, but his mouth was dry as he backed out of the cell and clanged the barred gate shut behind him.

* * *

King Vegeta breathed in deep, tasting the different scents in the air on the back of his tongue. The rust and dirt, the smoke and blood, the bittersweet taste of pride and duty all mingled together into a flavor that left him parched; it was all so familiar.

He barely glanced at the guards positioned at the top of the dungeon stairs when he'd climbed them, the same ones he told to wait outside because he was doing this alone. They rushed down with a scientist whose face was covered in blue scales and a white robe as soon as he'd passed.

He walked out of the dungeons, across the red stone ground and then the courtyard. His cape swished lazily behind him, like a drunk Saiyan's tail. The activity of the castle was all the same, all monotone and covered in dust from seasonal gale winds.

Before he knew it, he was back in the throne room walking past each imperial guard whose faces held stony expressions.

There was a stranger sitting in his chair.

"Vegeta," Lord Frieza smiled in that giddy amused manner he always did, spikey glass of something dark pressed against his black bottom lip.

There were a few rustles of discontent from the men of the guard. It wasn't right to call a King anything but a King.

He paid it no mind.

The same scientist from before scurried into view, his long white robe now stained with red dust and filth. He looked tired from the frenzied walk.

Weak.

"My Lord, we've deposited the specimen in the next solution. Results should be—"

"Thank you," Zarbon stepped in between the harassed looking man and Frieza's line of sight. The scientist looked so much smaller compared to the long-haired alien's height. "Your detailed explanation is not necessary at this time. Just make sure the results and documented reports are forwarded in a timely manner and continue on as scheduled."

The robed alien gave a cowardly little bow and retreated, further amusing Frieza who just took a long draw of his drink before setting the empty glass on the throne's arm.

King Vegeta schooled his features, although his natural face had always formed a bit of a scowl.

"Lord Frieza," He bowed. "Welcome."

"_Thank you_, Vegeta." Frieza smiled wide at his greeting, obviously happy. "See men? That's how it's done. Trust the King to have the best manners."

The small lord hopped up from the royal throne and made his way across the red carpeted floor, amusement dancing all over his face like glitter dancing in the sun.

"It is done." King Vegeta murmured when the horned alien got close.

"Yes," Frieza said, looking out of the corner of his red eyes at him. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

King Vegeta's upper lip curled for a brief moment. "I nearly had my neck wrung by that fancy chain the traitor was wearing. It was curious." His eyebrow quirked up just a fraction, but it made Frieza grin all the same.

"You liked that, did you?" Frieza's slimy voice reverberated off the high ceilings in the dead quiet room.

King Vegeta did not say anything more. It was a rare occurrence for the Lord to be so candid amongst commoners. Though the elites that made up the imperial guard were far from the usual dirty street-sleeping Saiyan of the cities, they were like fleas next to Frieza's own men.

"Sshhhsh." Frieza tipped his head and touched Vegeta's arm. The horned man's fingertip was cold.

"It's a new technology my scientists assure me is worth exploring… an energy sucking compound, or something like that. Although, opposed to keeping unruly men like pets, I have no need of dampening a warrior's power."

Frieza grinned like they were old friends, and maybe in some way, if their alliance was twisted around into something more; they were. King Vegeta had known him ever since his younger days, ever since shortly after he'd had his first transformation. It was rare for the planet to experience the effect of the full moon, but as the Prince at that time, he'd reveled in its power along with the rest of the Saiyans. After that, Frieza had shown up, reporting that his monitors had detected _'great power'_ on the surface.

King Vegeta clearly remembered the sour expression on Frieza's face when he'd said it, and then the sly smile that had crept up those black lips when they'd explained _why_ it had happened.

Frieza had nothing to fear. He wouldn't be needing shackles that absorbed energy anytime soon. Why bother to take away something that couldn't even touch him? There'd be nothing worth keeping left.

"Zarbon. Dodoria!" Frieza snapped, red eyes looking down the hall. The King and the Lord were standing in opposite directions, one staring at the throne and the other at the world beyond the castle.

"We've lots of work to do. Come." The horned alien ordered, his large muscled tail slapping against the ground in a sudden impatience.

Frieza floated up, making some of the guards littering the area flinch, but he merely landed in his hovering chair.

The chair zoomed away and the two elite warriors strode forward with a quick gait, haughty expressions on their faces pointed high in the air.

Dodoria scowled, his fatty pink features clumping together into a parody of a pout. "This whole experiment thing? It damn well better be worth it."

"Saiyans are more than worth it! You're all just too coward to find out in a _real_ battle!" A brave Saiyan guard bellowed out, clenching the ceremonial spear he held at rest in a tight fist.

King Vegeta growled and a blast of energy left his arm so fast the rest of the guards didn't even register it until the brave Saiyan was a mere pile of dust. The ash joined the particles of countless others who'd said treasonous words in the royal court.

"We know what happens to traitors!" King Vegeta roared, gloved hand clenched into an energy crackling claw held high. "The blood of a Saiyan traitor is worthless to Lord Frieza!"

Silence filled the courtroom like a wave of water so powerful it could drown a man if he took one gulp.

Zarbon rose a thin eyebrow when the King finally lowered his hand. The jewel at his forehead jangled with a barely there sound.

"What's _your_ blood worth nowadays, I wonder?" Zarbon said in one soft mocking whisper.

King Vegeta felt his pounding heart freeze for just a second, but it felt like an eternity. Dodoria and Zarbon shared a look before dissolving into laughter, loud and rude.

It echoed for a very long time even after they'd flown off.

* * *

TBC…


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Dragonball/Z/GT and all its likeness does not belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter Six**

Was all this worthless?

King Vegeta didn't know the answer to that question.

It plagued his mind all evening and night and in his dreams – he pictured himself in a reversed position, as the traitor locked down in that dungeon shackled to Frieza on a shining silver chain. He imagined his son and subjects looking at him with disdain as he used his tattered cape as a blanket. He saw himself burying the royal medallion in the castle's cemetery and drawing the royal crest in the dirt on top of it.

He wondered briefly, though it seemed so foolish, what those dreams of the future that prisoner deep in the dungeon were. Did he see something golden? Did he see their naked limbs entwined and sweat and dirt covered? Did Bardock know that the King had thought depraved things and pretended it was Frieza's idea all along – that Vegeta wanted him, and he'd known it, and gave him an excuse to indulge, a way out?

It was all too much to think about. It was worthless to think about, because it was impossible to do all those things. They were ridiculous.

'_What's __**your**__ blood worth nowadays?'_

If any one Saiyan was worthless to Frieza, what made him any different? Yes, he was the King… but he was also under Frieza's thumb, under his influence, underneath him in every way of class and power. It was only as a commodity, the Saiyan race as a whole, that they were worth anything at all.

Frieza's slinking tail and eyes; that maddening smile that promised he knew a secret… King Vegeta remembered it vividly, the day Frieza had become interested in their planet and people. The day the alliance was signed in blood and a business partnership made. He remembered the look on Frieza's face when presented with King Vegeta's own son, the intrigue, the selfishness, the greed.

There wasn't any worth to something you couldn't possess, was there?

Pride trickled into him like an intravenous to his veins. There was that. No one's possession: that was the Saiyan spirit. Slaves to their own thirst for power and fight; they couldn't belong to anyone else.

They were free, in that way.

His thoughts leapt back to Bardock in his cell.

Not everyone was worthless.

"If we let ourselves become dependent on Frieza, we'll still be holding onto his hand even when he backstabs us." Bardock had told him as King Vegeta held his spiky mane in a tight fist. The third class' eye was swollen shut as he took another beating.

Just another beating, an experiment, nothing more.

"You're delusional." The King had told him.

"Maybe," Bardock coughed, and flecks on blood landed on Vegeta's white gloves.

The King stood over him, his gloved fist smudged with the sweat, dirt and blood from the weaker man's skin. Slowly, he unfurled his hand, examining the stain. It was an ugly mixture of grays and dulls reds, scuffed deep into the once white fabric.

Bardock coughed again, strangled on the chain.

The trial devised by their Lord was not meant to cause him pain of the physical variety. King Vegeta accepted this as he had contemplated the blood on his hand. It was bright red. How many times had he seen Bardock's blood, been the reason for it, would see it again?

The King stared down at his hands and then slowly, oh so slowly, pulled off the stained gloves by the fingertips one by one. The skin underneath his soiled gloves was pristine. Not a single scratch.

Blue blood was a mark no one could see.

It ran beneath his veins in a furious attempt to keep his status, to keep him close to Lord Frieza, even though the closest he could get was under the tyrant's thumb. But it was there, and that was what set him apart from all the 'savage monkeys' that made up his race.

"What else do I have to do to get this night to end?" The flame haired man whispered into Bardock's face, not really expecting him to hear.

The weaker Saiyan's head lulled to the side then he coughed, but the horrible dry sound turned into a low chuckle.

"You could let me go."

The King felt his fingers shaking as he remembered the look in those black eyes when Bardock had said those words. Like he really believed it, as if he knew King Vegeta would let him walk out that door.

The medallion hanging around King Vegeta's neck was suddenly in his grasp, and he clenched its chain tightly, feeling strangled all of a sudden by it, alone in his chambers. It made an awful rattling sound like teeth being clattered around on a metal surface.

Let him go?

King Vegeta snorted to himself and lay on his bed under the royal canopy.

'_Go where?'_

* * *

It was a bright morning when the laboratory's automatic doors opened.

Frieza's eyes were narrowed slits, like razor thin red cuts against black rims. He read each word in detail, excruciatingly slow, then flipping it in the blink of an eye as though looking for something that wasn't there.

The scale-faced scientists stood around their stations in awkward fear. Interspersed were several of Frieza's personal guard, poking and prodding test tubes and beakers with their guns as if waiting for the culprit who had displeased their Lord to spring up and attack.

The electronic report reader cracked in Frieza's small hand. He dropped it in pieces on the floor, eyes hooded.

The laboratory was deathly quiet.

"And you're _one hundred percent_ positive with those results?"

No one spoke up until a zealous guard poked the eldest scaled man with the tip of his blaster.

"E-Er," The scientist stuttered behind a clipboard, his voice was high and grating. "Yes, L-Lord Frieza. The experiment is not yet complete, but the tests are concluding that the specimen's innate power level will rise exponentially—sometimes more so!— at each successful r-regeneration attempt…"

"Interesting." Frieza said in a quiet voice. "Interesting."

"My Lord?" Zarbon, just behind the horned alien, asked with a wary expression.

Frieza didn't reply right away. He tipped his head back, a tight smile stretched across his small face. Hands clasped tightly behind him, the only sign of his agitation was the quick sharp movements of his striped tail.

The tail slammed down into the ground, leaving a dent in the hard stone tiled floor.

Everyone, including Frieza's own henchmen, struggled to keep their footing as a tremor spread through the ground.

"Terminate it." Frieza ordered. His face was sinister.

Nobody moved, looking at each other fearfully out the corners of their eyes.

"_Terminate_ _**EVERYTHING!**_" Frieza roared and his finger pointed out, a laser beam of hot pink energy extending from it like a thread-thin blade. He swung his arm around, slicing up everything in sight.

Guards and scientists alike were cut open, falling dead as Frieza drew out their deaths like a finger painting.

Zarbon and Dodoria shared a glance but did not move to help their Lord lest they get in his destructive path.

Frieza gave a horrible yell and a large red ball of ki sailed towards the regeneration tanks lining the far wall. They exploded upon impact, spilling fluid and hissing steam as the metal was cooked in its own regenerative stew. His face was a grotesque snarl, the laboratory set up in flames and gaseous smoke rising from the remnants of the tanks.

The stench of burned bodies and toxic mix of chemicals rose and met the noses of the only warriors left after Frieza's fit.

Zarbon scrunched his nose just the slightest of a fraction, whereas Dodoria was waving a meaty hand in front of his face.

Frieza's armor clad back heaved up and down. "Back to the ship." The space tyrant said, not turning around.

"I never want to see this deplorable disgusting excuse for a planet and its _vermin inhabitants_—Ever. Again."

* * *

"You're early."

Bardock's voice was dark but sounded strong, face hooded by shadow as he sat in the corner of his cell.

King Vegeta had come alone; the guards who usually accompanied him to the dungeon entrance were suspiciously absent that day.

There was an uneasy feeling in the air, like an air born sickness was wafting through the halls. It infected all of the imperial guards and courtroom, the bloodless faces of his fellow warriors plagued the castle as if they were walking ghosts.

No one knew he was here.

King Vegeta stepped closer to the barred gate and his gloved hand rested on the lock in a brief moment of hesitation. The images that had wracked his brain flew to attention, assaulting him with their temptation.

"Why, come in." Bardock welcomed him, mirth evident in that deep timber voice. "You're looking well, _King._"

King Vegeta had almost felt a fondness until his title was spit with that mocking tone.

He tore open the gate and it clanged loudly against the opposing wall, sending plumes of rusty dust into the air.

Bardock was staring at him from underneath heavy dark rimmed lids, black hair falling into his eyes. The scar on his face was shining completely white in relief, and he was completely naked.

King Vegeta's moustache covered lip curled up in a show of annoyance. In truth, the sight of another naked man did not make him recoil more than the sight of those chains. He touched the neckline of his armor out of habit, feeling the royal medallion press to his skin underneath.

Bardock turned his head away so that his profile was lit by the stale light. "The last tank's solution ate away my clothes— what was left of them anyway—knowing Frieza this could be one of the improvements. They didn't bother to give me new ones."

He spit and the fluid was clear, healthy. Vegeta stared at the wet spot, knowing he had come here with the purpose to make it red again.

Their eyes met for the shortest of moments, and Bardock, that traitor asked, "So am I going back there tonight?"

"Of course you are, you ingrate." King Vegeta replied, already pacing in his blue boots.

"But we're doing it differently today." Bardock told him with a note of caution, like he was divulging a secret that he wasn't sure the King could bear.

King Vegeta glared at the captive Saiyan, the ice white chains glinted sharp in the low light. His hand shot out and gripped them, pulling Bardock so that his knees dug into the dirt and his face was turned up.

Bardock grimaced but there was a justified look to his eyes.

The royal warrior wanted to insult him, wanted to tunnel his fingers into that hard but supple flesh and claw, wanted to do what he'd come here to do– but that was the same as being on Frieza's leash, and did it really matter?

Maybe it would be worth it, to follow through. Because what Frieza wanted was what the alliance wanted and therefore what he wanted too. And Bardock's all knowing eyes seemed to know it was true.

"At attention, soldier." Vegeta tugged the chains and Bardock's various pulse points and veins spasmed.

"You may stroke the royal tail." One eyebrow quirked up a smirk stretched across the King's lips.

Bardock jerked his wrists for some slack, then ran the fur through his fingers, his nails just lightly catching the rough skin underneath.

The chained Saiyan brought his mouth to the appendage and his breath ghosted over it. The hairs of the tail stood on end and King Vegeta's hand in Bardock's head of hair went lax.

Bardock reared up and clamped his teeth as hard as he could onto the royal tail.

Vegeta yelled unintelligibly and the traitor made a break for it, no matter how far he could get still chained. There was a reverberation in the air and the bars began to shake, Bardock was hunched over, like he was charging up an attack ball of energy – but the King could not see any such thing.

Despite the dull pain of the bite, he was in no way injured, and immediately yanked Bardock back to him and onto the floor. The third class fell backwards into the dirty ground, and a wide-eyed look of disbelief stretched across his face as the King mounted him at the hips, white gloved hands holding him down.

The vibrations of the cell stopped short and the only sound was their furious breathing.

"Unbelievable." Bardock grit his teeth. "So the stories are true. That should have been crippling."

"Indeed." King Vegeta felt a trickle of dust ghost down his back. "The elite class has all but stamped out that particular weakness."

Bardock's eyes darted back and forth but there was no way out. They stared at each other, and King Vegeta pressed down a bit harder, feeling every part of the other Saiyan's unclothed body underneath him.

"It was worth a try."

"A worthless try."

Bardock struggled, forcing the King to flatten himself down even further, grip tight.

The chained Saiyan looked at him then, with unreadable eyes except for the slight tug at the side of his mouth.

"You want to try something else?" King Vegeta murmured in almost an amused tone, feeling the hardness of Bardock's arousal underneath his own thigh.

The third class snorted and craned his neck. He didn't reject it when Vegeta bent down and clamped his teeth onto an inviting spot of Bardock's neck.

Bardock moaned and moved under him, kicking out his muscled legs and lashing his tail. King Vegeta let go of one of Bardock's shackled wrists to grab the tail and Bardock let out a shocked sound, one of near pain, but the King chewed the soft flesh between his teeth harder and stroked down on the tail in his grip.

Bardock growled low in his throat, sounding like he was about the transform. It sent a hot blast of desire through King Vegeta's veins.

His straight nose dug a deep groove into Bardock's flesh as he dragged it down his chest. King Vegeta sucked various points of flesh into his mouth, biting and licking, leaving dark marks all the way down.

Bardock was all but panting when the King pulled his tail to flip him over. The third class warrior curled up at the pain but let himself be spread open and lifted to sit up on all fours. Bardock's cock hung low between his legs, dark red and aching in arousal.

The royal Saiyan's tail unfurled and he pulled down his pants, exposing the throbbing hardness that twitched at the sight before him. Vegeta let go of Bardock's tail, to tug at the captive's cock, allowing the other man to caress him with the furry limb in reply. It smoothed over the front of his armor and down his middle, curling around his waist and pulling his hips forward.

King Vegeta gave a low growl, and yanked Bardock by the hips leaving hand-sized bruises. He pushed himself inside, stretching the third class completely over his cock. Blood pulsed inside, making him large and hard as he pumped himself all the way in.

Bardock's face pushed into the ground and he breathed in and out roughly, the dust creating small clouds at each nostril. His chest cushioned on his folded hands he grunted and balanced himself on his knees at every thrust.

The King came fast, slicking up Bardock and making the keen scent of sex fill their noses in the tiny cell.

He pulled out and flipped Bardock over, grabbing him by the cock with his white gloved hand. He jerked the low class Saiyan a few times and cum covered the supple glove in a matter of moments.

King Vegeta bent low and snapped at Bardock's lower lip in the middle of his disorientation, making the lower class groan louder than before. To shut him up, King Vegeta kissed him, pushing his tongue roughly into the other's mouth and moaning when Bardock tilted his head, allowing him to stake claim.

Bardock gripped the King's skull between both of his hands, his fingernails digging in when King Vegeta entered him again— this time the pace fast and furious, hot and wet.

King Vegeta's hips were a blur, every muscle taunt and powerful.

The third class warrior broke the kiss and yelled something incomprehensible, toes curling into the dust.

Bardock came first, limbs locking up around the King, chains chinking together in a wild mess.

King Vegeta sank his teeth into the first thing they came in contact with, and bit into the silver collar on Bardock's neck. He came with a final thrust and painful sweaty grip on the hips in his hands. The spike of energy that always built up inside him during orgasm flowed out of him like a battle cry, making him clamp down on the collar until it was crushed.

Silver shards flew everywhere, nicking both Saiyans in the process.

They lay there, panting. Bardock's eyes were wide in shock even though his body was thoroughly spent. The King pulled away from their mess of appendages and his cape, which had somehow became a bit tattered.

He pulled up his pants and for long moments they just stared at each other, sitting there on the dungeon cell floor. Bardock couldn't move, bone-dead tired, laying eagle spread before his King.

The remnants of the collar glittered like broken glass near his neck.

"So—" Bardock's voice cracked, he chuckled, clearing his throat. The skin around his neck was raw and red but looked fresh and alive. "You know… I was getting… tired… of being chained up."

The captive Saiyan breathed out in rough patches of air. His bruised torso was painted with blue smudges slowly turning black like the hair that hung over those slanted eyes. Sweat and dirt clung to the hard chest that rose and fall in even intervals.

"I would have risked… the artificial moon," He swallowed thickly mid-speech, "but didn't want to strangle… myself or cut off my own head. I couldn't even bend the shackles. Not one bit…"

King Vegeta sniffed, and clenched his jaw uncomfortably. "An energy sucking material, or so they say."

"So I guess—huff— the only thing is to overload it." Bardock reasoned. "Heh… might as well try."

He spit, and the clear liquid mixed with dirt on his blood kissed lips. Bardock looked like he was torn between grimness and laughing that gritty hopeful laugh.

"I've already been royally fucked."

* * *

TBC... Next one's the last one.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Dragonball/Z/GT and all its likeness does not belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

The history of the Saiyans has always been written in blood.

Their futures were just the same.

King Vegeta rose to his feet, cutting an imposing regal figure over the third class warrior still chained on the floor. "And what makes you think you may escape?"

"Just a hunch." Bardock grunted and pushed himself up by the elbows.

"More of your fortunetelling?" The King frowned deeply and turned away to stare at the far wall, beyond the cell's door.

The third class warrior didn't answer, but King Vegeta didn't care. They were all being used; each one of them. He was the King, of course Frieza had used him. And he, King Vegeta had used the traitor in his dungeon, and now Bardock was intending to use their tryst to risk escape.

Still, arousal was swimming heavily in his gut, making his insides twist and turn in a grotesque sensation. The memory of Bardock's lips brushing so lightly as he said _'Make me yours' _came unbidden to the front of King Vegeta's mind.

He had. He _had._

But Bardock wouldn't belong to Frieza, even by proxy.

_There wasn't any worth to something you couldn't possess. _

A pebble pelted the King in the cheek. Then another grazed his neck, then another, and another, and there were bits of rock coming loose and scattering across the floor and the walls were starting to vibrate.

He whipped back around to witness Bardock crouched low, knees bent to brace himself. Every vein stood out in relief and his wiry black hair waved in the force of the energy coming off of him.

Fumbling, King Vegeta reached for his scouter but it shattered in his hands.

Bardock screamed, muscles bulging and head thrown back. The silver chains snapped like brittle twigs. They fell away from him and the dangling remains splintered like icicles exploding.

King Vegeta's eyes were pinpricks against their whites.

Bardock heaved a deep breath and took a step, messy head bowed before him.

The regenerations…

King Vegeta's mouth went dry. The tests! They'd risen the third class' power potential way beyond their previous level.

The amount of regenerations had made Bardock's power had soared to new heights.

He'd broke the chains. The Saiyan rushed forward and before it could register in the royal warrior's senses, Bardock was outside the cell door, innate power so unyielding it pushed his black hair up into a flame-shaped style.

"You made me stronger than I've ever been before." Bardock was panting and looking over his shoulder, wrists and ankles nearly shaking in relief at being unrestrained. They were raw, so raw and dark, just like his words:

"Come with me."

"I'm the King." Vegeta felt something inside him clench, staring at the man in his place still inside the cell. "I cannot."

Bardock looked torn. The royal Saiyan could see every muscle poised at the ready, the wild naked look in the third class' eyes. Bardock took a hesitant step back towards the cage and his hair flopped back down. One hand solidly took hold of a bar on the gate, as if acting as an anchor to hold him there until he was ready to let his King go.

King Vegeta simply walked to the threshold and placed his gloved hand on the same bar as the other, just a little higher.

Bardock growled.

"There's no time to waste."

The King's upper lip twitched into a half smirk. "No," His other hand grabbed lower, holding Bardock's cock in a firm grip. The naked fighter let out a breathless grunt.

"There is not."

He pulled the other Saiyan off until Bardock was melted against the bars, hot breaths puffing at unequal intervals and eyes just a sliver away from being closed shut.

King Vegeta threw open the gate and pulled down the waistband of his Frieza army regulation suit.

Bardock slid to his knees and King Vegeta planted his gloved hands in that wild head of hair, idly wondering how it had stood on end but not caring as much anymore when his cock was firmly inside Bardock's hot tight throat.

The third class sucked and swallowed as Vegeta fucked his mouth, in and out, in and out until they were both boneless.

The King roughly took Bardock's chin in between his gloved fingers, holding his head up. "If you were mine, this would have been worth something."

Bardock stared at him, trail of sticky whiteness still tracing his lip. His eyes were dilated and King Vegeta took pleasure in the thoroughly debauched and betrayed look before the lower class' eyes rolled back in his head and mouth gaped open in a soundless expression of horror.

"Traitor?" King Vegeta asked unsurely, letting him go and backing away.

Bardock convulsed and then came to, eyes crazed and forehead beaded in sweat.

"The—Planet—Is—" Bardock said with a sudden hysterical tone, "Frieza—!"

The ground shook, tearing the two apart to witness spider web cracks the size of space pods spread out over the walls of the dungeon.

Overhead there was a massive sound, like a whole army shooting a round of laser guns at the ground.

The sound of screams fled into the dungeon and then the hallway to the exiting staircase immediately caved in on itself, leaving a pile of rubble.

More loud crashes rang out over head, explosions and chaos deafening even in their underground bubble.

* * *

It didn't matter now. Class and power level and Kingship meant nothing. Nothing mattered. Everything was going up in flames.

What once was a privilege was now something he thought of in disdain. His lineage was the only thing tying him to the futile partnership with Frieza, and now those veins had been cut to spill all their blood.

King Vegeta had always been polished; shiny and new every time he went into public, he gave off an image that was far better than the real deal.

Real Saiyans were always glossed with the scent of sweat and blood. Even when not in the heat of battle, their eyes were still alert, their hair always wild and clothes dirty from a scuffle or adventure or two.

He'd watched the lower class that hadn't been initiated into Frieza's force, reveling in the simplicity of life. Real Saiyans never washed off their battles.

He smoothed one hand down the front of his Frieza regulation armor and then his fingers dipped inside the collar, pulling out the royal medallion. He might have been groomed ever since his adolescence by the Ice Lord; He might have washed away all the dirt and grime and any feeling of being in control a long time ago.

He gripped the flat discus in his fist, his moustache covered lip curling up. There was one thing that still clung to skin.

"My King…" Bardock murmured low in his throat, eyes half lidded. "It's too late."

The King never washed off his pride. This was the price of bleeding blue blood.

It was the first time Vegeta had ever heard the lower class Saiyan use the honourific in that tone, full of respect for his title. Maybe it was a result from the pain or pleasure, the King did not know. Perhaps it was because this was goodbye.

His proud cape sent a cool gust of air over Bardock's sweaty skin, a momentary instant of peace in the crumbling foundation of the castle's destruction.

A white hot ki-charged beam shot out of the ground in front of him and then rays of the deadly light were spreading out through the cracking ground hot underneath his feet.

Frieza had won.

Embers flared up and sprinkled the burning air like confetti. Hissing and steam began to assault them from the walls. The ground water was boiling.

He wiped a gloved hand over his face. It came away slicked with a mixture of dirt, sweat and blood; red, like the dying planet itself.

The walls and floors began to shake anew, rattling his bones around like his muscle had been liquefied.

A hand grabbed the back of his tattered cape and the King hit the bars of the gate with his back just as a ribbon of hot ki blasted through where he'd stood. He whirled around and Bardock grabbed him by the wrists through the bars. They stared at each other.

A wall of stone and clay and fire came crashing down and a gust of smoke filled air blasted through the corridor. It seared through their flesh like a furious golden wave. The old metal of the gate fused to the stone in a bubbly odorous mess. Stones and dirt vapourized as they lifted from the groundwork all around them.

That was when he noticed it. Bardock was outside and he…

He was trapped inside the cell. This was it… This was the—

King Vegeta felt emptiness, like all the chaotic feelings that had lived inside him had broken free to fling themselves in rage at the real world and tear it apart bit by bit.

Bardock's hands tightened overtop his. The lower class Saiyan bit his bloody cracked lip and King Vegeta snaked his tail through the baked bars to hold Bardock's hips, the metal making the fur sizzle.

"I…" The King let his pointed nose slide down the scar on Bardock's burning cheek. There were only minutes left, maybe seconds. The other Saiyan caught his mouth and they kissed the world goodbye.

King Vegeta let himself indulge for just a moment, tasting the inside of Bardock's mouth with the soft tip of his tongue. A half smile was on his lips.

Bardock stared at him in a wondering distant way from between the bars, like he was seeing something very far away.

A golden light lit up the crumbling dungeon, fiery sparks filling every space. King Vegeta could have thought this was beautiful, a lifetime ago, when dying would have meant something.

Holding onto each other, he knew. It was all burning away, him; the castle; the planet.

Being a Saiyan still meant something, _to them_. The two of them, together. This wasn't worthless. Their blood was outside their bodies now. Somewhere else now. Somewhere far, far away… in their sons.

"My King, he— _he dies_, in the fut—"

* * *

The corners of Frieza's lips lifted just a fraction. He turned away and the smile grew, crinkling the corners of his blood red eyes. His head became haloed in golden light by the fireworks of planet Vegeta's explosion.

"Retrieve our men." He ordered to his colourful right-hand men, acknowledging that many of the crew had fled into the small pocket of space habitable between the planet's orbit and the ship in hopes of fleeing destruction. "Dead or alive, though _preferably_ dead."

Zarbon and Dodoria took deep gulps and nodded in silent obedience.

"And send for all Saiyans who are stationed off planet to return to base." Frieza's mouth twisted. "Their home was hit by an asteroid. Terrible misfortune, but they've got _us_ for family now."

"My Lord, forgive me, but…" Zarbon inquired quietly. "It all seems like such a waste."

"Oh?" Frieza bit his lip as if trying to contain some repulsive emotion but it broke free and he laughed long and gleeful into the night, Zarbon and Dodoria watching him with wide fearful eyes.

"I believe I got exactly what I wanted."

Frieza didn't spare one glance at the burning black hole that now encompassed the coordinates of the red planet Vegeta. Didn't even spare a thought of the King and traitor who'd lived there, the ones responsible for showing him how dangerous keeping pet Saiyans were. He didn't do much of anything except enter his ship, his subordinates following as he floated down into the shadows of the control room, grim black smile tight and wide and cruel.

"Bring me Prince Vegeta."

* * *

**END**


End file.
